


Pinked (1/3)

by Betor



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Pink K, Woke Up Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-20
Updated: 2010-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betor/pseuds/Betor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lana shoots herself in the foot when she exposes Lex to pink kryptonite and Lex wakes up gay.<br/>Spoilers: Seasons one to seven. <br/>Disclaimer: I don't own. I toyed with DC Comics' property for the free amusement of fellow fans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pinked

Lana stares at the image revolving on her computer screens. Her brows pull together in a frown. This? This is what's locked in the heart of Lionel's most secret vaults. This is the source of his most dreaded threat to his enemies. This is the incurable and dire danger that keeps his deadliest allies in line. This merited the security precautions due to a rare diamond and the protective measures required for housing the most deadly viruses. This?

The jagged lump of glowing pink rock sits on a revolving pedestal. It's hard to tell without anything to measure it against, but the lump appears to be roughly fist-sized. How much would it take? Should she steal the whole thing? It's not as if she will get a second chance at either theft or applying the poison where it will do the most good.

Besides, the skimpy information that she'd found didn't say anything about what dosage would be most effective. Best to take the whole thing and use it well. Her delicate jaw lifts. The thought of killing a man that she's held in her arms, made love to, and watched sleep beside her is...it's difficult, but if it has to be done, it has to be done. It isn't be any different than when she decided that she had to kill Lex to kill Zod and save the world. Only she has to succeed this time.

Should she kill Lionel too? Clark seems to have finally learned that the old man can't be trusted at all so perhaps that won't be required. But Lex, even though Clark knows better, the younger Luthor continues to exercise a peculiar fascination. Almost as if Lex can mesmerize Clark. No matter how sternly she warns him, or what Lexian evils she reports to him, Clark keeps talking about seeing the good in people and wanting to give Lex another chance.

Her lips thin. The Luthors have had more chances than they deserve in her opinion. If Clark won't protect himself from them, then she will have to do it for him. No reason why his conscience should ever be troubled by this. No reason why he even needs to know. She will take care of it all like she always does.   
"Lana! I've got the pizza!"

"Back here, Chloe!" Lana slaps a combination of keys and her screens filled local movie listings. "I can't decide which one to see first. The new Bond or the latest Batman."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What the fuck!" Lex swerves, trying to avoid the rock. His heart pounds wildly as time slows. He watches the rock fly toward his side window as he takes the Porsche into a controlled skid, spinning his car away from the potential threat. Part of him is thinking that he's never seen a pink meteor rock before, and wondering where his attacker found it. Another part of him is calculating the trajectory of the rock, and how much force her slingshot needs to smash his windshield.

Even as he wonders, his side window shatters, slivers of pink rock and glass flying everywhere as time suddenly speeds up again. Lex hits the breaks hard, ducking his head and flinging his arms up to shield his face and throat. He lowers his arms and stares into the darkness, trying to find his enemy, but there's no trace of the woman. Had it been his ex or the Black Canary? The woman had been the right size for either under that baggy black coat.

Lex looks down. Flecks of pink rock and glass are scattered over his black tux and white dress shirt. Dots of red begin soaking through the white fabric. Slivers of glass and rock stick out of his forearms like so many quills. He watches with a numb abstract interest as a thin slice of pink melts like ice cream dropped on a hot pavement and is absorbed into one of his cuts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That can't be good. Not if his enemy had wanted him exposed to this.

He rips his shirt open and stares at his chest. Blood oozes warmly over his skin, and he can see glass being pushed out as his body heals, but the splinters of pink are melting and seeping into him. Oh, fuck. His hand lifts toward his face as he suddenly becomes aware of the warmth of blood and the burn of cuts there. Within seconds all the pink is gone and his skin is whole and healed. What the hell had just happened to him? Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lana walks into her favorite downtown coffee shop. She selects a table next to the big window where she can people watch and see the large flat screen TV fastened to the wall. She drops her stack of newspapers, and magazines on the table to stake her claim, and then she strolls over to the counter to order a large coffee, an orange juice and...well, it's not every day that you save your ex despite himself..a huge danish loaded with blackberries, cream cheese, and dusted with sugar.

She takes her tray back to her table and settles in for a leisurely reading of the day's news. Today is going to be the very first day of the rest of her wonderful new life. She pulls out the three Metropolis newspapers and compares the front pages. Hmmm. She would've bet anything that a mysterious Luthor death would rate front page status and screaming headlines.

Maybe it got regulated to the society section or the business. Lana smirks. Wouldn't that piss Lex off. She glances at the local news clip playing and watches it all the way through the sports and the weather. No mention of Luthors, much less a specific Luthor. Perhaps Lionel is delaying the announcement. Perhaps Lex's body hasn't been found yet. She can wait. There's nowhere that she has to be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lex pauses in front of the sculpture. He hadn't expected to really find anything at the very first opening of the Met U student art fair. He'd only gone because it never hurt to be seen as a supporter of local educational institutions and museums. Both Met U and the Metropolis Arts Center had sponsored this particular event. Met U supplying the students while the museum loaned its enclosed garden and bistro area for the location.

Professors, museum personnel, and student artists had been watching his slow progress around the exhibit like a flock of curious pigeons, setting off a subdued cooing at his every display of interest. There had been some abstract oils that showed promise. Some average pastels. And a rather dreary series of watercolors, followed by a handful of paintings that left him wondering if the artist's lack of perspective was deliberate or accidental.

He'd made appropriate polite noises at all of it and encouraging noises at the few student artists who had intrigued him with hints of things to come. He'd even mentally marked two of them as artists to watch with an eye to future acquisitions for his own homes. There had been a series of black and white photographs that were very striking and mature for the artist's age.

And one girl had exhibited several watercolors of local Metropolis scenes with exceptionally deft and subtle color usage. He had left both students glowing with his measured praise and had even purchased the girl's painting of the Daily Planet, drenched with rain, and LuthorCorp looming in the background, thrusting upwards into the storm clouds.

But this sculpture...Lex circles it. The life-sized brawny warrior has both elements of classical art and art deco. Fascinating. A baldric loops over the warrior's bare chest. One stone hand holds a bare sword that parallels and the length of the equally bare 'sword' resting slack against round balls. The plinth doesn't really match and looks like it was supplied by the museum, but it does put both swords at a good viewing level.

Hmmm, that stone ass is really something. So round. So full. The delineation of the muscles and the channel of the cleft so very well done. So eye catching. Yes. He must purchase this one for the Luthor Manor gardens and commission a matching plinth of exactly the right height for optimum viewing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lana stares with displeasure at her eighth cup of coffee. She really can't drink any more of the stuff, unlike Chloe who practically mainlines it. Soaps have replaced the local news and morning easy-listening shows, and still there's been no announcements. She'd discarded her morning edition papers with dissatisfaction. Other than an article on the Talon in the social section, there had been nothing of interest.   
Maybe the local reporters are at the investigating stage instead of the writing stage of things. Maybe they are busy checking out mysterious hints and verifying sources. After all a reputable paper would want to be reasonably certain that they could back up any statements made. Especially if the allegations involved rabid Luthors. Perhaps she should invite Chloe to lunch. Jimmy, too, surely photographers got around and heard things.


	2. Pinked (2/3)

"I know you were behind it," Oliver snaps. "I know it was you because..."

Lex tunes back out. He yawns and leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out beneath the glass desk as Oliver stalks back and forth. Actually Lucas had been behind it, which Ollie-var would have figured out already if ol' Ollie wasn't so sadly obsessed with him. Of course, he is quite worthy of an obsession or four. Lex adjusts the cuffs of his lavender silk shirt. He glances at his screen and sees that he has an email from the museum. He clicks on it. His new sculpture will be delivered to Luthor Manor in two days. That will give him plenty of time to decide exactly where in the gardens he wants it placed. Next to the swimming pool? On the end of his favorite jogging route's home-run stretch? The meditation garden? The herb garden? The center of the boxwood maze?

"Are you even listening to me?" Oliver slaps his hands down on the glass table and leans close.

Hmmm. Ollie-var smells nice. Like trees and there are just the faintest notes of ...why is Ollie backing away like that? Oh, who cares. Lex glances at his watch. "Are you done now? You may not have anything better to do with your time, but I have some calls that I need to make."

"You ...you...no, I'm not done!"

Lex sighs as Ollie starts up again. He watches the other man pace. It's almost like having a life-sized wind-up toy. Too bad it only comes in green. Purple would be a vast improvement. He tilts his head. Huh. All those years sharing a communal shower room and he'd never noticed that Oliver is a little lacking in the front area.

Of course, that could be an undergarment issue. Perhaps no one had ever told Ollie-var what he'd discovered while dressing this morning...that there's nothing like the cupping effect of a well-designed pair of boxer briefs to put that extra bounce in a guy's stride. Well, if Ollie doesn't know, he isn't going to share that tidbit of info. Clark spends far too much time with that blond menace wannabe as it is. Perhaps he should arrange for Ollie-var to encounter Catwoman. Now there is someone who knows how to deliver when it comes to blonde menace. And she has that extra touch of psycho that he always appreciates in an ally.

Definitely something to consider. Ollie's ass could clearly use the workout. It's reasonably well shaped if he has to be objective about it. And if he can forget the blond loser that it's attached to. But it completely lacks the enticing full roundness of Clark's. Lex tilts his head to the other side as he considers the matter. Ollie-var had...maybe, maybe...a travel bag and a suitcase worth of ass going on back there, while Clark's trunk was packed with prime grade A farm junk.

"Are you ...are you looking at my..." Oliver stares, dark eyes narrowed.

Lex raises a bored eyebrow. "Looking at your...?"

"Nothing. I...nothing." Oliver backs away. "I...umm...have stuff that I have to do."

Lex frowns as Oliver eases out the doors, closing them firmly. He taps a pen against the glass top. That was unexpectedly ...interesting. When had he developed an interest in guys and their asses? Could that pink rock have wrought a change in his brain chemistry? Hmmm. Lex turns to his laptop and roams out onto the 'net. Thirty highly gratifying and educational minutes later, he backs out of a premium porn site, ready to concede that he might be the slightest bit gay. Perhaps he should take the few silvers of shattered rock that he'd picked out of his car and spend some quality time in his home lab with them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Maybe it's one of those slow acting poisons since Chloe and Jimmy had babbled all through lunch about their decision to get married. There had been nary a mention of Luthor news. God, the newly engaged were so boring. Jimmy was only a photographer. It wasn't like Chloe had nailed a billionaire or scored a super hot farmer.

That just went to show. Once a geek, always a geek. Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader. Not to even mention the prom queen thing. Lana glances at the array of online newsites spread across her screens. Still nothing. She sighs and goes back to playing solitaire on her main monitor and pondering what engagement gift to buy for Chloe.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lex stares down at the tiny pink silver that had been among the shards that he'd recovered from his ruined car last night. It glows happily back at him from a metal tray resting on top of his lab table. Next to it is a tiny bit of the same rock, coldly clear. He'd cleared out his calender and spent the rest of the afternoon, testing, analyzing, and experimenting with the pink rock. He imagines Victoria and the rich sway of her breasts. He goes over every detail of the last time that he'd shared a bed with her, from the first kiss to thrusting into her wet heat.

He thinks of Heike and the delights of her full, muscular ass. He imagines Lana, the feel of her clenching around him as he slides inside and makes himself at home. He thinks of Amanda, whom he'd once loved so deeply. Her image still causes the familiar surge of love mingled with sadness, but there's no longing to feel her body pressed to his.

Okay, now for a guy. He thinks of his chauffeur, and imagines pulling the limo over for a kiss and grope, but all he can envision is Harry staring him in indignant astonishment, and reminding him firmly that Harry is in a committed relationship, and offering to take him to Harry's favorite gay club. Okay. Maybe not Harry. The blond chauffeur isn't his type any way.

He needs a brunette, someone ...an image of Clark's big jade eyes and a wide pink mouth slides in front of him. Lex imagines the muscular heat of Clark's big body wrapped around him and those plush lips parting beneath his. Shit! Well, that's just fucking great. Not only is he gay now, but he wants to get into Clark's boxers too. Badly. He readjusts himself in his snug gray trousers.

Lex glowers at the pink rock. He might be able to change himself back. Lex picks up the clear rock and stares at it. Has he succeeded in neutralizing the power of the pink meteor rock? What if the clear rock doesn't affect him in any way? He takes a deep breath and draws the clear rock across his palm, watching as blood wells in its wake. He clenches his bloody hand around the stone and thinks of Victoria and her big boobs. Oh, yeah. He thinks of Lana on his purple cloak, and stripping Heike of her whites, and he gets harder. Good. He thinks of Clark in snug blue tee shirt and loose jeans. There's no startling heat. No sudden surge of want.

Lex opens his hand and stares from the bloodstained stone in his palm to the rosy pink rock winking in the lights. Who does he want to be? He can be the man who goes from woman to woman, always waiting for the first murder attempt, the first humiliating affair, the first child who isn't his, and retaliating in full measure for each, Reliving his parents' marriage. He can be the man that Lana walked out on, and left humiliatingly exposed to the scorn of Metropolis.

But perhaps...just perhaps...it's not too late, for him to rediscover the Lex who was reborn in a river so long ago. And if Clark will have him, then the Kents, however reluctantly, will have to have him, and all of them will act as anchors against the pull of his Luthor instincts. The idea of a Clark anchor makes him feel oddly hopeful in way that he hasn't since he looked up to see Clark looming over him, drenched in river water and fear.

Lex drops the clear stone on the tray and picks up the pink one. It glows at him with all the promise of a new dawn. If he does this, will Clark have him? Hmmm. When Zod had possessed him, Lana had been ready and willing to kill him, but Clark...Clark had refused. Clark had hoped in him and been determined to find another way. And there's the way that Clark is always spying on him. Watching him from beneath the cover of dark bangs and lashes.

Friendship alone hadn't been enough, but perhaps with something more intimate binding them...Lex slices his already healed palm with the pink rock and holds it tight, thinking of Clark. Suddenly the wideness of that mouth is an enticing temptation; he imagines leaning up to kiss it, leaning into the warmth of Clark's muscular body, and seeing those jade eyes darken. He shudders as his imaginary Clark kisses him back and pulls him close.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She'd promised Clark that she wouldn't watch Lex any more. Her fingers caress the mouse next to her main screen. She glances over her shoulder at the shadowy room. It's silent, but for the hum of computer fans and servers. Her receptionist and staff are outside, dealing with whatever clients are visiting the Isis Foundation today.

Lex could be lying cold and still anywhere in Luthor Manor. The place is so big and has so many secluded nooks and hidden crannies and secret spots. It might be days, weeks before he's found. She's only trying to be helpful. Lana clicks on the link and gets the barest glimpse of Lex's empty office before the screens fizz with static and go black. What!?! What had happened? Had Lex discovered her spying and left a virus for her? Well, much good it's going to do him now.   
　   
　   
　


	3. Pinked (3/3)

Lex sits in a deep leather chairs, the fireplace crackling merrily behind him. On the coffee table separating his chair from its mate, his laptop and LCD projector hum softly to themselves as they flick images across the dark wainscoting on the opposite wall. The surrounding darkness frames the images of the cave paintings.

He clicks the remote, pausing over a large red and blue painting of Naman and Segeth. Clark had never seemed to realize that there is more than one way of interpreting that story. Why can't Segeth be the hero of the story? More than one way of seeing the legend being told through the primitive artwork. Ways that took the legend in a whole different direction. What if Segeth and Naman aren't fighting in this image?

Lex doesn't look away from the provocative image even as the doors are flung abruptly open. At the corner of his vision, he can see Clark pausing and blinking on the threshold while his security detail hover uneasily in the alien's wake. Lex waves a dismissive hand at his security. "Clark, come in."

Clark steps over the threshold, closing the door behind him. "Lex?"

"Ummm?"

"I ran into Oliver at the Talon."

"Oh?"

"He said that you," Clark pauses at he squints around the room, "that you didn't seem to be yourself."

"Indeed?" Lex slowly runs his hand down the lavender silk covering his chest. He watches Clark track the path of his hand and then swallow heavily. Lex stretches slowly and purrs. "How odd. I feel exactly like myself to me. Have a seat, Clark."

Clark stares suspiciously at him for a long moment and then takes another squint around the office before he takes the chair on the other side of the coffee table. "Lex..."

"What was Oliver doing at the Talon?"

"He... uhm...he wanted...it's a coffee house, Lex."

"A long drive for a cup of coffee, They do have coffee houses in Metropolis. Multitudes of them in fact."

"He came here to see you. You know that."

"Did he?" Lex asks coolly. "I thought that he might want to see you."

"Me? Why would he want to see me?" Clark shifts in his chair. "I barely know the guy."

"Good. Keep it that way."

"What have you got against Oliver? Lois really likes him."

Lex sneers. "She would."

Clark scowls at the blue and red image glowing on the wall. "Why are you sitting in here looking at this stuff? I thought that you'd lost interest in the caves."

"I think I've learned everything from the caves that I can." Lex smirks as Clark twitches uneasily. "But the artwork...I think there's still something to be discovered there."

"What? I've told you the story of Segeth and Naman. Dr. Willowbrook told you the story. It's very short. What more could there be?"

"Ummmhmm."

Clark glances at Lex's profile and then back at the painting. "Naman arrives."

"Comes down from the stars," Lex murmurs dreamily. "From the heavens."

"Ah, yeah. Myths seem kinda hung up on that starry heavens sort of thing." Clark hunches a shoulder. "And he had magic green rocks. Obviously the legend is an attempt to explain away the mutations that meteor rock induces. No different from than myths that explain rain or thunder. See? Nothing to it."

"But Naman could shot fire from his eyes. Definitely an original touch. Not something that you encounter in every myth." Lex leans his head back against his chair. "Wouldn't that be a fun ability to possess?"

"Fun?" Clark stares hawkishly at him. "Fun. What would you do if you could shoot fire from your eyes?"

Lex imagines his dad's face surrounded by a nimbus of smoking hair. It wouldn't do to share that one with his companion. "Having a build-in coffee heater would come in handy during long meetings. And if I ever got lost on a tropical island again, it would be nice to have an easy way of starting a fire."

"Oh. Is that what you think Naman did with it?"

"Possibly."

Clark bites his lip. "Do you suppose that the big fight between Segeth and Naman began because Segeth was jealous?"

Lex turns his head. "Jealous?"

"Of Naman being able to do stuff that Segeth couldn't. Being super-strong and the fire-eyes thing. Stuff like that."

"I'm sure there were plenty of misunderstandings and fights between the two, but the longer I look at this picture, the more strongly that I feel that the whole nature of the Naman-Segeth relationship has been fundamentally misinterpreted."

"Lex?"

"Hmmm?"

"They're fighting," Clark murmurs gently. "How can that be misinterpreted?"

"Are they? Are you certain that they are fighting?"

"Well, what else could they be doing?"

"Fucking."

"Fu...fucking?" Clark repeats, stumbling over the word. His breathing quickens as he stares at the image. "Lex. Lex, do you really think that they are fucking?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."   
　   
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"There. How's that?" Lana asks from beneath the counter. "Can you see anything now?"

Chloe sips her coffee and stares at the brawny ass filling the screens. Lana looks at porn down here now? No wonder her friend had been so pissed when the screens fizzled out. Burned that connection up, hadn't she? Did Clark know that Lana was looking at porn instead of Luthor Manor, and did he view it as an improvement? She admires the hard flex of golden ass. Nice. "Oh, yeah. I definitely see it."

"Good. Now if I can just get the sound back." Lana wiggles further into the maze of wiring.

Chloe tilts her head. That ass looks vaguely familiar. She's more a torso sort of girl herself, but if Lana likes asses... well, it takes all kinds. Nothing wrong with admiring a particularly nice one, and this one is very, very nice. Perfect even. Maybe she should broaden her scope.

No. reason why she can't appreciate the hard contours and rippling abs of a perfect torso and the muscular swell of a good ass. She takes another sip of her coffee, wishing that the focus would widen out. Who could the ass be boffing with such enthusiasm? She might not be an ass connoisseur like some, but she knows an enthusiastic and happy ass when she sees one.

"Wait. Wait. I think I got it," Lana calls. "Can you hear it now?"

Chloe drops her coffee as she's surround-sounded by a very familiar voice screaming, "Lllllleeeexxx!"

The End.


End file.
